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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27435016">And I Bid My Heart to Follow</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/nubianamy/pseuds/nubianamy'>nubianamy</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Glee</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Beauty and the Beast Elements, Conventions, Cosplay, Kurt is a total stalker, M/M, but he's cute so he gets away with it</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 01:20:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,495</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27435016</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/nubianamy/pseuds/nubianamy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When Kurt runs into Dave Karofsky at the fabric store, he can't help but wonder what he's up to.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kurt Hummel/David Karofsky</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Kurtofsky Week - Ten Year Anniversary</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>And I Bid My Heart to Follow</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For <a href="https://karofsky.tumblr.com/post/630911758407745536/kurtofsky-week-the-10-year-anniversary-dates">Day 6 of Kurtofsky Week, 10th Anniversary Edition</a> (Beauty and the Beast).</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">“Carole!” Kurt hollered from the basement as he rummaged through his sewing kit. “Do we have any frogs?”</p><p class="p1">“Do we…?” She appeared at the top of the staircase, gazing down at him in bemusement. “What?”</p><p class="p1">“Frog closures. The—knot thingie that fastens clothing shut?” He mimed the mechanism and sighed. “Never mind. I’ll go to the fabric store.”</p><p class="p1">“While you’re out, would you pick up a gallon of milk? And some fresh cilantro for dinner tonight, I know your dad thinks it tastes like soap, but we can just put it on the side…” Her voice faded away upstairs.</p><p class="p1">Kurt set aside his sewing, picked up the keys to the Navigator, and found his wallet. His mind was still occupied with problem-solving the design of the coat’s collar—maybe he needed a different type of interfacing?—so he made it all the way to the notions aisle of the fabric store before he noticed who was there with him.</p><p class="p1">“Dave!”</p><p class="p1">Dave jerked his hand away from the drawer of frog closures. He looked up at Kurt, his eyes widening, and he took a step back.</p><p class="p1">“Oh, hi, Kurt,” he said in obvious dismay, but he smiled. “You need to get in here?”</p><p class="p1">“I’m okay,” he lied. “I just… I’m working on a project.”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah, me too.” Dave clutched the closure in his hand, then waved before muttering, “See you.”</p><p class="p1">Kurt was more than a little curious about what Dave had been up to since leaving McKinley, but not curious enough to follow him and make him talk about it. Dave was obviously uncomfortable, and the last thing he wanted to do was to make that worse.</p><hr/><p class="p1">The second time he saw Dave at the fabric store, Kurt watched him from behind a display of holiday patterns. This time, instead of notions, Dave was picking through bolts of remnants in a remainder bin. He picked up one bolt of fabric and unrolled it, running his hand beneath it to consider the weave and heft. Kurt could almost feel the velvet on his skin. He waited for Dave to depart before he went to look for his own fabric, but now, he was curious enough to follow through.</p><p class="p1"><em>What project were you working on the other day?</em> he texted Dave.</p><p class="p1">It took Dave a few hours to respond. <em>Who is this?</em></p><p class="p1">
  <em>It’s Kurt. In the fabric store?</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Where did you get my number?</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Santana gave it to me. I liked that velvet. </em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Dude, are you stalking me?</em>
</p><p class="p1">Kurt snickered. <em>Don’t call me dude. Are you surprised I’m at the fabric store a lot?</em></p><p class="p1">
  <em>Well, no. </em>
</p><p class="p1">That was it, though, and Dave didn’t respond to further prodding. Kurt frowned. It was hard to pester someone into revealing secrets when you didn’t even know where they lived. He would have to ask Santana again.</p><hr/><p class="p1">The third time he found Dave at the fabric store, waiting in line to have the employees cut his fabric, Kurt went right up to him. Dave looked wary, but nodded at Kurt.</p><p class="p1">“Linen?” Kurt said, nodding at the bolt of fabric Dave held in his arms.</p><p class="p1">He cradled it a little closer, protectively, and nodded back.</p><p class="p1">“It has the right drape,” Dave said reluctantly.</p><p class="p1">“Of course. Natural fibers almost always win.” Kurt reached out to touch, and Dave let him. He smiled. “Still good quality, even with that low thread count.”</p><p class="p1">“I wasn’t looking for sheen.” Dave swallowed on whatever he was going to say next, and looked away.</p><p class="p1">“What’s it for?”</p><p class="p1">Kurt waited as Dave blushed and remained silent. Kurt held up his own selection of bolts. “Still working on my suit design.”</p><p class="p1">“No kilt this time?” Dave said, with a little smile.</p><p class="p1">“It’s so last season,” Kurt replied, rolling his eyes, and Dave even laughed.</p><p class="p1">Once the woman at the counter cut his fabric, Dave took off quickly, but Kurt met him again, waiting in the cashier’s line. Dave still looked embarrassed, but a little less so than before.</p><p class="p1">“When did you learn to sew?” Kurt asked.</p><p class="p1">“Seventh grade, I wanted to be Spider-Man for Halloween. My mom told me we could either buy a plastic one, or she could teach me how to make a fabric one.” He shrugged. “So I did. It was hard.”</p><p class="p1">“With those stretchy fabrics, I can imagine. A bold first project.” Kurt eyed Dave’s pile of material. “That’s not for Halloween.”</p><p class="p1">“No, I’m trying something else.”</p><p class="p1">“Trying to impress somebody?” Kurt joked. “Because it’s working. I mean—on me. Not that you would…” He paused, wrinkling his brow at Dave’s pained expression. “Oh, you <em>are</em> trying to impress somebody.”</p><p class="p1">“It’s dumb,” Dave said. “Please don’t tell anybody.”</p><p class="p1">Kurt huffed. “You really think I’m going to say something about <em>this</em> when I never said anything about <em>that?”</em></p><p class="p1">He shook his head. “No. I don’t really think you would. That’s why I’m asking.”</p><p class="p1">Dave paid before Kurt could ask him any more questions. He turned and said politely, “See you, Kurt,” then exited with his head down.</p><hr/><p class="p1">Kurt didn’t see Dave at the fabric store anymore after that, but he thought about him a lot, more than he had in months. Santana was suspicious when he asked her where Dave lived, but she told him.</p><p class="p1">“You’re not going to try to reverse-bully him or anything?” she asked.</p><p class="p1">“Dave and I have something in common,” Kurt said, “and I want him to know he’s not alone.”</p><p class="p1">Her eyes widened. “Fuck. He told you?”</p><p class="p1">“No, no—I mean, yes. He did. But that’s not what I mean.” He considered her. “He told <em>you?”</em></p><p class="p1">“Never mind,” she said hurriedly. “What are you talking about?”</p><p class="p1">“He’s designing a piece of clothing. I’m not sure what it is, but he’s keeping it close to his chest. Why would he bother to try to hide that from me, of all people?”</p><p class="p1">“Because Dave hides everything, from everybody,” Santana said. “Only the chosen few get to see behind the mask.”</p><p class="p1">Now Kurt was even <em>more</em> curious. That Saturday afternoon, he drove to Dave’s house and went to the front door. When he rang the bell, Dave’s father answered.</p><p class="p1">“Kurt,” he said, looking surprised, but he smiled. “It’s been a long time. Are you here for—were you looking for Dave?”</p><p class="p1">“I was. He’s been working on this project, sewing?” Dave’s father nodded, apparently in the know, and Kurt went on. “I’m here to help him.”</p><p class="p1">“Well, he’s already at the hotel. You’ll have to head over there to catch him.” When Kurt clearly looked blank, Mr. Karofsky held the door open. “I think there’s a flyer here somewhere… yeah, here, on the fridge.”</p><p class="p1">It was a poster for a fantasy and science fiction convention. Kurt studied the location and details, and when he saw the line <em>Costume Contest, 7 pm Saturday,</em> he handed it back to Dave’s father.</p><p class="p1">“If he calls, just let him know I’m on my way,” Kurt said.</p><hr/><p class="p1">He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but the convention was much less flamboyant and more social than Kurt had envisioned. The lobby was full of people of all shapes and sizes and ages, talking together, snacking, reading, laughing. Kurt paid the entry fee and took the program packet, flipping through it with curiosity. But he was here for Dave. He would need to find him.</p><p class="p1">Kurt also wasn’t sure what he thought he might be doing there. <em>Stalking Dave</em> was the obvious answer, but he had no idea why. <em>Trying to help</em> was just an excuse, because Dave obviously had known what he was doing. <em>Being impressed </em>was a third, if only he knew what he was going to be impressed by.</p><p class="p1">“Excuse me,” he asked at ops. “Do you know where people are getting ready for the costume contest?”</p><p class="p1">“I think most people are getting ready in their rooms,” the volunteer said. “They won’t do the judging until seven-thirty, but the masquerade begins at seven. Are you looking for somebody in particular?”</p><p class="p1">Kurt let the ops volunteer show him where the note board was for friends to leave one another messages. He knew Dave wouldn’t be looking for anything like that. <em>He doesn’t have any friends,</em> Kurt thought, and then was annoyed at himself for even thinking that. Dave had always had a lot of friends, even if they were fake. But the times Kurt had seen him at the fabric store, he’d looked sad and alone.</p><p class="p1">Then Kurt thought about what Dave had said, <em>trying to impress somebody,</em> and he felt a flash of—what? Anger? Frustration?</p><p class="p1">It was jealousy, he realized. That was not something he’d expected to feel about Dave Karofsky.</p><p class="p1">He went to the hotel desk. “I wonder if I could leave a message for a guest?” he said. “I know you can’t tell me his room number, but could you connect me and I leave him a message on the room phone?”</p><p class="p1">“I’m sorry,” the attendant said, “if you don’t know the number, I can’t do that.”</p><p class="p1">On his way back to the events space, where vendors were set up, selling all kinds of things, Kurt texted Dave, saying <em>What are you up to today?</em></p><p class="p1"><em>Kind of busy,</em> Dave replied a few minutes later.</p><p class="p1">
  <em>I won’t bother you, then. Maybe you could tell me about it later?</em>
</p><p class="p1">The silence went longer this time. <em>Sure, if you want?</em></p><p class="p1"><em>I want,</em> Kurt typed, then erased the words. This was getting needlessly complicated. He would just enjoy the convention, then attend the masquerade at seven, and Dave would be there.</p><p class="p1">After browsing the art show, Kurt sat in on a panel discussion about racism and stereotyping in Disney cartoons. Kurt could easily have led that panel discussion, but he was kind of impressed by the high level of discourse he heard from the fans. He read the program more carefully, and found an event called <em>Instant Costume Tips and Tricks.</em></p><p class="p1">It was a room full of people, mostly women, but some men and kids, working with glue and fabric and cardboard. It would have been easy to lose himself in the creative process, but Kurt remained focused.</p><p class="p1">“You wouldn’t happen to know Dave Karofsky, would you?” he asked the woman in charge.</p><p class="p1">“Dave? He’s Mark’s friend, right? I think he and Mark are working on his makeup.” She smiled. “Did you see the finished product? Really classy. He’ll win something at the contest, for sure.” </p><p class="p1">“Dave told me he was trying to impress him,” Kurt said, taking a chance.</p><p class="p1">The woman just rolled her eyes. “Yeah, <em>that</em> was obvious. Mark is straight, though, as much as he loves his cosplay.”</p><p class="p1">Kurt wanted to text Dave and say, <em>Don’t waste your time on that Mark guy,</em> but that would make it instantly clear exactly what a stalker he was being. He felt protective of Dave. He wanted him to—what? Kurt still had no idea. He had dinner at the hotel restaurant, watching the hallways as convention attendees wandered by in twos and threes, but Dave was nowhere to be seen.</p><p class="p1">Finally, it was time for the masquerade. Many people were in costume, and most of the rest were in fancy dress. Kurt felt woefully underdressed in his street clothes. He gazed around the assortment of full-body gear, wondering if he would even be able to tell it was Dave inside the costume.</p><p class="p1">And then, with a rush of prickling excitement, he saw him. The makeup and prosthetics concealed his face, but Kurt recognized the linen, the velvet, and the frog closure at the throat. He went right up to him, standing by the edge of the dance floor, and said, “Hello, David.”</p><p class="p1">“Kurt!” Dave gasped. “What are you doing here?”</p><p class="p1">“You look amazing,” Kurt said, ignoring the question. Dave really, really did. Cautiously, he reached up and stroked Dave’s upper lip, split like a cat’s. Like a <em>lion,</em> really. He ran his fingers through Dave’s mane of hair before he realized Dave was standing stock still, frozen to the spot. “What—what are you?”</p><p class="p1">“The beast,” Dave whispered. He cleared his throat. “From the 1987TV show. Ron Perlman. Police procedural, but really, an excuse for romance.”</p><p class="p1">“Most police procedurals are,” Kurt agreed. “I don’t think I remember that show, but you look amazing. And I said that already.”</p><p class="p1">Dave was smiling as well as he could under the prosthetics. He drew himself up, looking remarkably stately in his layers of fabric and leather. When he snarled, Kurt lost his breath for a moment, blinking at Dave.</p><p class="p1">“Four hours of makeup,” Dave told him. “It’s really uncomfortable.”</p><p class="p1">Kurt watched the masquerade attendees surround them on the floor as the sounds of Frankie Valli’s “Can’t Take My Eyes Off of You” drifted across the room. He took a deep breath.</p><p class="p1">“Would you like to dance?” he asked.</p><p class="p1">Dave might have looked at him like he was crazy. Or, he might have bolted from the room, the way he had at their junior prom. Instead, he nodded, offering Kurt his arm. “Sure.”</p><p class="p1">Kurt let Dave lead. He was a remarkably adequate dancer. No one else was bothering to dance ballroom-style, but Kurt figured the costume suggested it. He rested his hand lightly in Dave’s raised one, and settled his other hand more firmly on Dave’s shoulder as Dave’s furry paw encircled his back.</p><p class="p1">“So who’s the beast’s companion in this version of the story?” Kurt asked. “Not Belle, I’m assuming.”</p><p class="p1">“Linda Hamilton plays a hot lawyer.”</p><p class="p1">“Linda Hamilton from the <em>Terminator?”</em> Kurt laughed as Dave nodded. “Is the beast a bad guy or a good guy?”</p><p class="p1">“The beast is the misunderstood ugly loner who can do things nobody else can. On the show he’s a scholar. He loves poetry. More than anything else, he wants to be understood, but nobody can look past his gruesome exterior.”</p><p class="p1">“Except for the hot lawyer?” Kurt guessed, and Dave nodded again. “How does he snag her?” </p><p class="p1">“Um…” Dave hesitated. Kurt was unreasonably delighted to see he’d capped his teeth to make them pointy. Then he grinned. “Animal magnetism?”</p><p class="p1">“Possibly.” Kurt rearranged Dave’s linen sleeves and brushed the velvet insets in the vest. “Or maybe he impresses her with his skills.”</p><p class="p1">Kurt gave him time, noticing Dave’s awareness of Kurt’s body, moving increasingly close to his. When Dave tentatively moved his hands lower on Kurt’s back, brushing his butt, Kurt sighed and maintained eye contact. Dave definitely looked a little overwhelmed, but even after the song was over, he didn’t let Kurt go.</p><p class="p1">“You said you were trying to impress somebody, anyway,” Kurt added. “How did that go?”</p><p class="p1">“Oh, it… didn’t.” Dave laughed sheepishly. “It’s okay. We’re better as friends, anyway.”</p><p class="p1">Kurt felt a wriggled of excitement settle in his stomach. “So does that mean that maybe I have a chance?”</p><p class="p1">Dave stopped laughing and stared at him. Finally he said, his voice a little shaky, “High school enemies become boyfriends?”</p><p class="p1">“Why not?” Kurt rested his hands on Dave’s beautiful costume and smiled. “Tale as old as time.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>When I got involved in fandom back in the stone ages, this show was incredibly popular among fantasy fans. By the time the Disney film came out four years later, I was already hooked on the trope. I wore out my cassette of the show's soundtrack, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xevRjoedYRk&amp;list=PL3NAMd-BG4-C7verm11k1xrnT47iJU0mE">Of Love and Hope</a>. </p><p>The title is from the show's theme song, "<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=99idAfiWTzw">The First Time I Loved Forever.</a>"  There is not a more schmoopy song in existence, particularly when you mash it up with Ron Perlman's recitation of e. e. cummings' "somewhere I have never travelled."</p></blockquote></div></div>
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